Will you be there?
by H.Hawthorne
Summary: Set just before the beginning of the Second Sino War, Yao Wang is healing from his previous abusive relationship with Kiku - someone he just can't seem to let go - when he falls in love with the exuberant Yong Soo Im, a young handsome tourist. With the Second Sino War approaching, what will happen to them both?


**_Prologue_**

**WARNING: This may be disturbing to viewers who are sensitive to domestic abuse. This may also not be for those who are devoted fans of the character Kiku Honda/Japan due to how he is presented in this fan fiction. I have nothing against the character or the country.**

**NB: I do not own Hetalia. **

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><p><strong>I really like ChinaYao Wang in Hetalia but he doesn't have a lot of screentime...so I thought - "Why not write a fanfiction about him then!"**

**And then one thing led to another and then...boom, birth of this fanfiction. **

**Many thanks to my beloved Beta reader (whom I will not name because he/she may be embarrassed by this fanfic) for turning this aubergine of a piece of writing (just me who doesn't like aubergines?) into something better - like a shiny stone. **

**Hopefully, you'll enjoy it as much as I had fun toying around with the characters :D**

**(The rating will be changed to an M...later, for certain reasons ;) )**

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><p><em><strong>July, 1937<strong> _

It was a rare, silent – almost peaceful – evening at the small house of Yao. So different to those of _that summer_. The moon had settled high in the clear sky, illuminating the thickets of tall trees that surrounded the modest home. On evenings like this, an occasional quiet breeze could be heard weaving through the thickets and, eventually, the breeze would reach the delicate bamboo wind chimes, hanging on a tree near the entrance, and a soft melody of hollow notes, high and low, would thrum through the night air.

They filled the air tonight as well.

And Yao Wang winced. It stabbed at the rips in Yao's heart, reminded him of the ugly scar that ran across his back, the pain that had caused it, and threatened to pulverize the dam that strained to hold back the flood of memories poisoned by torture, torment and loss… all caused by _him_.

Yet, Yao had spared it from being burnt with all the other things.

The one who gave him the wind chimes.

The one who used to look at him with a smile more refreshing than a slice of watermelon on a hot summers' day.

And the one who had shadowed Yao's skin purple and blue.

"No." Yao shook himself. "Anger had caused _Kiku _to do this. And that anger was caused by you, Yao," he said flatly. "You shouldn't have doubted him."

"Even if _Kiku _hadn't written you a letter in over a year and even if he had come home only to be drunk whispering someone else's name in his sleep," Yao murmured, his shoulders starting to shake. He could feel something hot trickling at the sides of his eyes.

He raised his arm abruptly, as if it were a reflex, and rubbed away the tears hastily. He was the guilty one here. He didn't deserve to cry… After all, it was Yao's own actions that had forced Kiku to do this.

But was it right to let out that anger through hard hands and the unforgiving blade of a sword against soft skin?

Yao didn't understand why this bothered him anymore anyway. Kiku had left Yao last summer before he had left China to work in his home country, Japan.

_**Summer, 1936**_

Kiku knew that the relationship was collapsing and, after he had carefully considered whether it was worth his time, saw no point in trying to build it up again. He was leaving for Japan and he had no intentions to return. Yao was now just discarded as one of the many lovers he had - safely tucked in the past once he had finished using them and cut from his present and future.

Kiku stood firmly in his pristine, white, general uniform, hands by his sides, looking sharply into Yao's eyes. Tears were already filling those round, chestnut eyes. Kiku sighed internally, irritated.

Kiku thought bitterly, '_Why did he always have to show his emotions through crying?'_ Be it happiness or sadness – it was always released through tears. His hands began itching to move, tears would only drag this on for longer.

Another reason why he preferred to be back in Japan: being able to order those soldiers who had no choice but to follow his every command with no questions. No tears involved. He enjoyed that aspect of his job with relish. Watching those dying on the battlefields no longer satisfied him.

Kiku desired for total control, he always did.

And that Chinese person, standing in front of him, hurriedly blinking tears away, only brought him frustration.

Kiku stepped forward and smiled. Yao shivered, quickly tensing. It was never a smile of happiness, only ever a twisted one. Dread and worry began to flood into Yao's thoughts – what had he done now to upset Kiku? Did he see the tears in his eyes?

"Yao, my _dearest_," whispered Kiku, stroking a finger up Yao's jawline, his voice low. Yao resisted the urge to flinch as the blunt nail caught on the delicate skin beneath his ear. "Don't cry. You know that makes me upset… And we wouldn't want that now, would we?" Kiku cocked his head to the side, almost smirking.

"This is a new beginning for both of us, Yao. I want to leave our relationship behind in China. It would only be a disadvantage for me if I let this continue," said Kiku, dropping his arm and stepping back. There, he said it.

Yao's shoulders dropped in relief. But his eyes were still shining with tears and his lips trembling. He knew he had loved Kiku more than he should have. He knew that the time to leave has been when the first bruise had surfaced – but Yao had stayed through it all, filled with wavering false hope every time Kiku had said sorry.

Yao quickly dabbed at his eyes and glanced back at Kiku, ignoring the lock of hair that had strayed next to his left eye. Yao swallowed. "I understand. I hope you will have a safe journey back to Japan. I won't forget you... Do you want me to write to you?" mumbled Yao, edging his voice with a tinge of hope despite himself. Silence fell, heavy and awkward. This was unexpected, Kiku thought. A few moments passed before the blasting sounds of an arriving train filled the air.

"...If you want to," he muttered quickly, turning towards the train. It had not gone as Kiku had planned but he didn't care. It was common for his ex-lovers to send him letters even though they all knew he would never open them.

Kiku didn't turn back.

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><p><strong>Originally, I planned for a full chapter but then I realised that the backstory was too long... 휴ㅡ휴<strong>

**Please tell me what was good, the bad and what you would like to see more of! **


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